


Just Outside the Land of Promise

by enigmaticblue



Series: Sun 'Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-15
Updated: 2010-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary comes to them in a silence so profound no one can break it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Outside the Land of Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Somewhere Back of the Sun, sometime during the winter of 2010/2011. The title is from an Over the Rhine song, "Thank You My Angel".

She had fallen asleep in the backseat of her family’s car and woke up to snowfall and parents who refused to answer. She screamed and cried and shook them without response, and in the end, she burrowed down under the clothing and blankets they had heaped on her before they froze to death.

 

When she woke again, she was lying on a couch, and there was a stranger sitting next to her with dark, messy hair and tired blue eyes.

 

“Hello.” His voice was deep and growly, and there was something comforting about it. “How are you feeling?”

 

She opened her mouth to reply, and all the words formed a lump in her throat. She couldn’t force out a single sound, and she felt the same terror welling up in her that she’d felt in the car with her parents so still and cold in the front seat.

 

“It’s okay,” the stranger assured her. “You don’t have to speak until you’re ready.”

 

She felt silent tears leaking down her cheeks, and she turned away, ashamed, but she did not resist when the stranger picked her up and pulled her into his arms. “Shh,” he soothed. “You have been saved for a reason. God saved you. You’re safe now.”

 

Clutching his t-shirt, she allowed him to soothe her and the tension slowly eased until she fell asleep again.

 

~~~~~

 

Castiel was not often tired; he still had more stamina than the ordinary human. He could eat and sleep less, and endure longer periods of deprivation than most, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need rest or sustenance, and Cas knew he was pushing his limitations.

 

But Dean was still sleeping long hours due to his injury, and Bobby was fighting the nasty cold he’d been struggling with for more than a month now. Castiel had not been ill yet, which left him with the task of seeing to the others.

 

At least as much of the work as he could take on. Dean still insisted on doing too much.

 

The child had been unconscious—or delirious with fever—for the last four days, and Castiel’s stamina had been stretched to the max. He’d spent much of that time praying over her, begging his Father to spare her life.

 

He began to understand why Dean had such a hard time watching even strangers die; Castiel didn’t even know this girl, but he wanted her to live.

 

When she finally stirred and awoke on the fourth day, Castiel felt a wave of relief pass through him. “Hello,” he said, for want of a better greeting. “How are you feeling?”

 

He could see her mouth open and close and the sheer terror in her eyes. Castiel hadn’t known what to do at first, but her silent tears had galvanized him into action.

 

He had some experience comforting Ben over the past few months. Pulling the girl into his arms and rocking her, making soothing noises, came easier now.

 

When she finally slept again, Castiel gently disentangled himself, tucking her under a blanket and smoothing her hair.

 

“How is she?” Dean asked from the doorway of the study.

 

Cas rose from his half-crouched position and walked over to join Dean. “She’s better. I’ll need to wake her shortly so that she can eat, but I’ll let her rest now.”

 

“Did she say anything?”

 

“Nothing at all,” Castiel replied. “She couldn’t speak.”

 

Dean frowned. “New development, or is she deaf?”

 

“She seemed to hear and understand me,” Cas replied. “And from the panic in her eyes, she appeared surprised when she couldn’t speak.”

 

“Fuck,” Dean cursed. “Now what the hell are we going to do?”

 

Castiel shrugged, a human gesture that he’d discovered could say more than words. “I don’t see that it changes anything.”

 

“We could have found her family,” Dean suggested. “We could—I don’t know.”

 

“I think we must count on her staying with us for awhile.” Castiel clasped Dean’s shoulder, knowing that one more child meant one more burden. Dean took on too much; Castiel had known that for years now. “Dean—”

 

“It has to be done,” Dean said heavily. “I get it.”

 

“You have me here, too,” Cas reminded him. “I can look after her.”

 

Dean shook his head. “You shouldn’t—”

 

“And you should?” he asked, cutting Dean off. “Trust that I can take care of myself and those around me, just as you can.”

 

Dean offered a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Castiel responded. “Help me make dinner.”

 

“Just as long as I don’t have to do the cooking,” Dean replied. “What are we having?”

 

“Chicken noodle soup. I read it was good for illness.” Castiel could hear Bobby’s voice in the living room, and Ben’s higher voice responding. Bobby would keep Ben busy, and as they passed the living room, both he and Dean peeked inside.

 

Bobby was teaching Ben the ins and outs of a revolver, and Castiel touched Dean’s shoulder, suddenly grateful for this moment, this opportunity. He’d nearly lost Dean, and he didn’t think he could have survived such a fate.

 

Castiel would have gone on, for Ben and for Bobby, but Cas still would have lived for Dean even in his absence.

 

~~~~~

 

Mary wanted to speak. She kept thinking of things she wanted to say, but the words remained lodged in her throat, a hard knot around which she could barely swallow.

 

Castiel had told her that he and Dean had found her in her parents’ car, nearly frozen in the backseat, that they would be taking care of her from now on, that she would be safe. Castiel told her that she didn’t need to speak, that she could say whatever she liked, whenever she wanted. If she never wanted to speak again, that would be fine, too.

 

“Can you write?” Castiel asked quietly. “We’d like to know your name.”

 

Dean pushed a piece of paper and a pencil across the table towards her. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

 

Slowly, painstakingly, Mary wrote her name and her age. “Mary Berlin, 8 ½.”

 

Her mom had taught her fractions, as well as her alphabet, numbers, addition and subtraction. Mary’s handwriting wasn’t very good yet, but her mom had told her to keep practicing, and it would get better.

 

She swallowed back tears at the memory.

 

“Where were you going? Do you know?” Dean asked gently.

 

Mary shook her head. She remembered that they had been trying to find relatives, her mother’s sister, but that the house had been cold and empty when they’d arrived. She didn’t know where they’d been going next. Her parents had spoken of their plans quietly, careful not to allow her to overhear.

 

“Do you have family?” Castiel asked. “Is there someone else?”

 

Mary shook her head again and laid her head down on her arms. She couldn’t choke a single sound out from around the lump in her throat.

 

A large, warm hand rested on her back. “My mom’s name was Mary,” Dean said quietly. “It’s a great name.” When she didn’t look up, he added, “You’re staying with us. It’s okay.”

 

Dean pulled her towards him, and Mary allowed him to hold her, even though he was a poor substitute for her mom and dad. Dean’s arms were strong and warm at least, and he rocked her and murmured promises. It was better than nothing, even if it wasn’t quite enough.

 

~~~~~

 

“Do you think it’s weird that Mary hasn’t said anything yet?” Dean asked on their way into town, three weeks after Mary had come to stay with them.

 

“I think she’s been through a traumatic event, and that she’ll speak when she’s ready,” Castiel replied. “But I’d like to stop by the library as long as we’re in Sioux Falls.”

 

Dean frowned. “Got a hankering for reading something not out of Bobby’s library?”

 

“Something like that.” Cas wasn’t ready to reveal his plan before he was certain it would work. “We’ll see if this works.”

 

Dean shrugged. “If nothing else, you can find a few new cookbooks, right?”

 

“Any time you want to start cooking, feel free,” Castiel said.

 

Dean grinned. “Why should I, when you’ve gotten so good at it?”

 

Cas snorted. “I believe you’re taking advantage of my new expertise.”

 

“I cooked plenty for…” Dean trailed off, but Castiel could finish the sentence. Dean had cooked for Sam and no one else.

 

“I know,” Cas agreed quietly. “I don’t mind cooking.”

 

Dean glanced over at him. “Have I told you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done? I know I wasn’t much help, but—”

 

Castiel held up a hand impatiently. “Having you here is reward enough, Dean.”

 

The tips of Dean’s ears turned pink. “Cas—”

 

“Cooking is a useful skill,” Castiel continued, as though he hadn’t heard Dean. “And there is an amazing amount of satisfaction in creating a meal that others enjoy.”

 

Dean laughed. “Yeah, okay, little Suzy Homemaker.”

 

Castiel had no idea what that meant, but he decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and he didn’t ask.

 

Dean dropped him off at the library and said, “Is an hour and a half enough?”

 

“More than,” Cas assured him. “I’ll see you soon.”

 

The woman sitting at the circulation desk was gray-haired and well past middle age, but her dark eyes were sharp when she saw him walking in. “Can I help you, young man?”

 

Castiel smiled. He’d never been young, but humans’ understanding of age and time often amused him. “I’m looking for books and videos on sign language.”

 

“And you are?” she asked.

 

“I’m Cas—” He stopped, uncertain of how to continue. “Castiel Novak. I’ve been staying with Bobby Singer.”

 

“Oh, you’re one of Bobby’s boys,” she said, her face creasing in a smile. “I’m Reyna Cole.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Cole,” Castiel replied politely.

 

“Let me show you where most of the sign language books will be,” Mrs. Cole said. “And I’ll see what videos I can find.”

 

With Mrs. Cole’s assistance, Castiel collected the most relevant books and videos on learning and teaching sign language. “This video is probably the best one if you’re just starting off.”

 

“ _Teach Your Baby Sign Language_ ,” Castiel read out loud. “Why would one want to teach a baby sign language?”

 

Mrs. Cole laughed. “I have no idea. I think it’s because a baby can make simple signs before it can talk. Is there a reason you want to learn sign language?”

 

“We’ve taken in a child who can no longer speak,” Castiel replied. “I believe it’s a response to trauma.”

 

Mrs. Cole shook her head. “Plenty of that going around. You’ll probably want a book or two on childhood trauma. Those would be in this section over here.” She waved Castiel over, and he followed her down the aisles.

 

Being among so many books in the hushed silence of the library was soothing. If Castiel had had his choice, he would have been a scholar and dedicated his life to learning. Instead, he’d been called as a warrior, and he took the opportunity to learn where he could.

 

“This is the section on helping children with grief and trauma,” Mrs. Cole said. “There were a couple that have received good reviews. I think—” She plucked a couple of books from the shelf. “Try these, and if you need more information, you just come see me again.”

 

“Of course.” Castiel followed her back to the front desk, waiting patiently as she filled out the application for a library card. “When should I bring these back?”

 

“Three weeks,” she said briskly. “But if you need them longer, just give me a call, and I’ll put in a renewal for you, assuming someone else hasn’t asked for them.”

 

“Do you think they will?” Castiel asked.

 

Mrs. Cole shook her head. “I doubt it. There aren’t as many people coming to the library as there used to be, so you come see me again, huh? I can recognize a fellow book lover when I see one.”

 

Castiel smiled. “I will take you up on that offer. I have two children who need to be in school, I am not an expert in all the subjects usually offered, and I believe Mary will need special assistance.”

 

Mrs. Cole pursed her lips and nodded. “You bring those kids by sometime. I can find books for anyone, even if they’re not readers.”

 

Castiel sat on a bench stationed just inside the front doors, out of the wind and mostly out of the cold. The first book he picked up was the one Mrs. Cole had recommended for childhood trauma and grief, and he was soon engrossed. He didn’t look up until a familiar boot nudged his leg.

 

 “Should have figured you’d be nerding out,” Dean said with an affectionate smile. “What did you find?”

 

Castiel held up the book silently, then showed Dean the other titles.

 

“Sign language. Good thing one of us is smart.” Dean wore the expression Castiel knew meant he was thinking of Sam.

 

Knowing that Dean wouldn’t listen to him, Castiel didn’t bother pointing out that Dean was also intelligent. Instead, he said, “It will be something to do, and I think it will help Mary.”

 

“Then we’ll learn sign language,” Dean replied easily. “No big deal, right?”

 

~~~~~

 

Mary constantly felt as though she was choking on everything she couldn’t say. She wished she were a better writer, a better reader—or that she could somehow find her voice. She kept trying to communicate, but most of the time, all she got was a blank look or gentle questions.

 

It was like playing 20 questions on a long car ride with her parents, except that her parents were dead, and the game never stopped. She spent most of her waking hours pretending not to cry, or trying not to cry, and she hated every minute.

 

Castiel and Dean had gone into town, and Bobby and Ben left Mary mostly alone. Bobby had a few books he’d said she could read, and Mary flipped the pages slowly, picking out the words she knew, sounding out the ones she didn’t in her head.

 

She had forgotten the sound of her own voice. Sometimes it felt as though she’d never had one.

 

“Mary?” Castiel poked his head into the study. “I have something I want to show you. Will you come into the other room, please?”

 

Mary set her book aside and followed him into the living room. Dean bent over Bobby’s ancient television and slightly newer DVD player. “Okay, I think we’ve got it set up,” Dean announced, stepping back.

 

“Sit down,” Castiel urged. “I think you’ll like this.”

 

Mary sat down next to Ben, who glanced over at her warily. He hadn’t said much to her yet; Mary wondered if he liked her, or if he thought she was a baby because she cried all the time.

 

When the DVD began to play, Mary frowned. _Teach Your Baby Sign Language_? She _wasn’t_ a baby.

 

“Just give it a chance,” Castiel urged. “You’ll understand in a moment.”

 

Mary’s eyes widened as the narrator began talking about how parents could help their baby learn sign language in order to facilitate communication earlier. “Hungry,” the narrator, a pretty, dark-haired woman, said clearly. She repeated the accompanying gesture a second time. “Hungry.”

 

Mary’s hands mimicked the gesture without thinking. Her world narrowed to the television screen, and she soaked up every bit of information, the lump in her throat loosening as the world opened up before her.

 

She could be heard again.

 

When the video was over, she gave Castiel a pleading look and signed, “More?”

 

He smiled. “Of course.”

 

~~~~~

 

Mary’s hands were graceful, and she absorbed every piece of information she could find on sign language as though her life depended upon it. Castiel was relieved when she seemed happier; she became too engrossed in learning sign language to brood. She insisted on practicing her skills with everyone, even Bobby, who had begun to learn out of self-defense if nothing else.

 

Dean and Cas had to work harder at it, and they watched the videos after Mary and Ben had gone to bed, practicing on each other, doing what they could to ease Mary’s way.

 

Ben’s reticence around Mary concerned Castiel, but he hesitated to say as much to Dean. Castiel knew that Dean could be touchy where his son was concerned.

 

It turned out that Castiel didn’t have to say anything. He overheard Dean talking with Ben a few nights after they had begun to learn sign language.

 

“I need you to be a friend to Mary, son,” Dean was saying. “She’s all alone. She doesn’t have her mom or her dad, and she’s really sad.”

 

“She cries all the time,” Ben replied, sounding a little sullen. “And Cas is always with her.”

 

“Cas has been praying for her.” Dean sounded awkward, and Castiel could picture the uncertain expression on his face. Dean still didn’t believe in God, but he believed in Castiel. Castiel thought perhaps he could have faith enough for both of them. “She was really sick.”

 

“Yeah,” Ben agreed, sounding reluctant.

 

“And girls are different,” Dean continued. “Sometimes they cry more than guys do, but—sometimes it’s okay to cry, you know.”

 

“Babies cry.”

 

Castiel suspected that Ben still cried, and that his protests had more to do with his own grief.

 

“I cry sometimes,” Dean said in a low voice. “I cried when your mom died.”

 

“Oh.” Ben’s voice was so small, the hurt so obvious, that Castiel felt his own heart ache in response. “I still miss her.”

 

“You and Mary have that in common,” Dean replied. “But she doesn’t have her dad the way you do. You’re always going to have me and Cas, you hear? But Mary doesn’t know that yet.”

 

“I understand.”

 

Judging from his determined tone, Ben _did_ understand, and he sounded so much like Dean in that moment that it caused Castiel to love the boy even more.

 

“Good man,” Dean said, and Castiel moved away from the door, not wanting them to know he’d overheard.

 

Mary found him a moment later, her hands moving so quickly they were blurry.

 

“Slowly,” Castiel said with a smile. “You’ve learned more quickly than the rest of us.”

 

She grinned at him in response and repeated herself.

 

“Yes, you may help me cook,” Castiel replied, now reading her rudimentary signs a little more easily. “What shall we have?”

 

Mary shrugged, possibly because her response would be more complicated than her limited knowledge would allow.

 

“Let’s see what we’ve got,” Castiel replied. “It’s definitely time for dinner.”

 

~~~~~

 

Mary liked Dean a lot; he was kind and his hugs were almost as good as her dad’s. Bobby was gruff, but he had good stories. Ben watched her a lot, as though he was trying to figure her out, and Mary didn’t know how to go about making friends when she couldn’t say anything.

 

But Castiel was different. He’d been the first person she’d seen when she woke up. His voice was deep and growly, and he had kind eyes. He talked about God the way her mom had, as though he knew God personally. He told her that she was special the way her dad had. Best of all, he’d given her the key to speaking again. She didn’t feel as though she was choking on the lump in her throat anymore.

 

She still cried at night, though—silently, because she couldn’t force any sound out. Sometimes she wanted her mom and dad _so badly_ , and not even Castiel could comfort her.

 

Mary didn’t want to be a baby, though, so she turned her face into her pillow and let the silent tears flow down her cheeks.

 

“Hey.” Ben’s voice broke into her misery. “Hey, it’s okay.”

 

Mary shook her head and refused to look at him. Castiel had explained that it was still too cold to open the upstairs, so she and Ben had to share the study. At first, when she had been really sick, Ben had shared the dining room with Bobby, but Bobby still had a cough, and so she and Ben shared a room. She slept on the couch, and he slept on an old cot.

 

Over the last few weeks, Mary had heard Ben crying sometimes, but she hadn’t said anything. She hadn’t wanted to embarrass him, and she cried all the time. She had expected Ben to ignore her, too.

 

She felt the couch sink down behind her as Ben stretched out just behind her. “It’s okay,” he whispered again. “I miss my mom, too.”

 

Mary sniffed and rubbed her eyes, turning over just enough to sign. Ben was almost as good at signing as she was; he could keep up with her better than anyone else anyway.

 

“My mom died, too,” Ben confided. “I was hungry, so she went out to find food even though Dad told her to stay inside. She got hurt really bad, and she died before Dad and Cas got there.”

 

Mary heard the suppressed grief in his voice, and she turned so that her face was buried in his shoulder, feeling as though someone understood for the first time in a long time.

 

“Dad says it’s okay to cry,” Ben whispered in her ear. “I won’t tell anybody. It’s okay.”

 

She clutched him tighter and let the tears fall.

 

~~~~~

 

Castiel thought he had heard something from the study, where Ben and Mary were supposed to be sleeping. He paused in the doorway, smiling at the tableau in front of him. Ben stretched out on the couch next to Mary, her head on his shoulder, twined around each other in innocent sleep.

 

He heard the distinctive sound of Dean’s uneven footsteps behind him and turned. “Hey,” Dean murmured. “What’s up?”

 

“Just you and me,” Castiel replied. “Look.”

 

The corners of Dean’s lips turned up when he saw Ben and Mary. “He’s a good kid, isn’t he?” Dean asked, pride in every syllable.

 

“He is. He’s very much like his father,” Castiel murmured in reply.

 

Dean shook his head. “He’s more like his mom.”

 

“She was a good woman.” Castiel made it more of a statement than a question.

 

“She was the best,” Dean replied.

 

Castiel watched Dean as he watched his son and Mary. “Are you happy?”

 

Dean glanced over at him, surprised. “We do okay, Cas,” Dean replied. “Ask me again when we’re really through winter.” He nudged Castiel away from the door, back to the living room, where they’d made their bed in front of the fire. “You okay? Mary seems pretty attached to you, and I know you didn’t sign on for any of this.”

 

Castiel shook his head. “Dean, I signed on to stay with you, whatever that might entail.” He paused. “Mary has a sweet spirit.”

 

“She’s fragile,” Dean noted.

 

Castiel nodded an acknowledgment. “I believe that we can give her strength. Family does that.”

 

He studied Dean closely as Dean stared into the flames of the fire. “We’re her family now,” Castiel said softly. “That’s the important thing.”

 

“Yeah. It is.” Dean shifted, and Castiel didn’t know if it was by chance or on purpose, but Dean’s back just brushed his chest. “We should probably get some sleep.”

 

Castiel swallowed past his sudden dry mouth, not understanding the burgeoning feeling in his chest at all. He allowed his hand to rest on Dean’s bicep and laid back.

 

He thought he could sleep tonight, content for the moment.


End file.
